Destruction or creation?
Travels
It’s only right before you land that you realize you’ve been flying.
Freelance Whales
—Hannah
I love unique patterns that’s why Anya was my favorite on Project Runway. She sewed to her own tune, and not one that could be easily replicated.
illustration by Jerome Snyder
Proud
I have a new technique. It’s very scientific. This technique aids me in exploring new subjects to write about. It’s called the “Ouija Finger”. I open up a novel/any book I’m currently reading, and I close my eyes. I then let my finger graze across the page until it lands on a word. I must (because the power of my finger bids me to do so) write about this word. It may be tricky at times, but I have no choice but to do as the Ouija Finger bids.
“His body’s going to Washington, to the Arlington Cemetery, and I reckon Myrlie real proud a that.” -Kathryn Stockett (The Help)
One must take pride in their own work but take criticism gracefully.
One must be proud of themselves but know when to be humble too.
One must make their parents proud but not lose sight of their own goals.
One must never be too proud to ask for help.
Pride is both the best and worst trait one can posses. Too much pride in one’s self makes a person arrogant and leaves others with a resentful taste in their mouth (similar to rotten milk). Not enough pride leaves a person self-conscious and sloppy. The word “proud” is a seesaw that only two sides of equal weight can balance. It would be arrogant of me to say I have mastery of this word; it is only my humble opinion, but I am proud of my attempt.
“The answer is blowing in the wind” -Bob Dylan
But sometimes there are 70mph winds, and you can barely hold onto yourself let alone grasp for an answer .
I admit it; I enjoy the UFC
There’s nothing better than that first uppercut. It hits the fighter so hard, right underneath the jaw. You have to wonder, “What was the point of braces?” That first glimpse of blood is like the first chirp of a bird in Springtime. It makes your heart sing. Yes, I admit it; I enjoy sarcasm.
No one should fall through the cracks.
picture by National Geographic
Musings about Math
If I was a calculator
I’d have so much fun
I’d mess up people’s division
I’d eat lots of 3.145
I’d screw up fractions
I’d sabotage and lie
But I’m not a calculator
No I’ll never be
I count on my fingers
Don’t make fun of me
If she told you what it means would it make you feel better?
artwork by Jennie Booth
